When It Happens
by ColieMacKenzie
Summary: Moments we'd like to see when Caskett finally happens. A love story, told in scenes.
1. It Happened One Night

**When It Happens**

**AN:** There were these lovely and inspiring 'when Caskett happens,' wishes and hopes traveling all over twitter the other day, and I just fell a little bit in love with the idea. So I thought I'd turn it into a collection of scenes we may want to see. Timeline-wise, the scenes will be loosely connected, but each will stand on its own (meaning I won't leave you with cliffhangers).

I'm taking reader prompts for this one! If you have a scene you would like to see, hit me with your idea (somewhat in the style of 'when Caskett happens I want to see a steamy scene on his desk' – that was mine. lol). Put it in a review or a pm if you don't want it public, and I will collect them all. I can make no promises as to whether I will use yours; however, if I do I will give credit to who provided the idea, of course.

Now, let's get started with…

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><p><strong>It Happened One Night<strong>

This wasn't supposed to be a date.

She hadn't dressed up for it, or touched up her make-up, or spent inordinate amounts of time perfecting her hair. He hadn't picked her up at her door, or brought her flowers, or whisked her away in a subdued town car. And they weren't at a fancy restaurant nibbling on small portions of overpriced food.

It was just coworkers, friends, going out for drinks after work. Winding down from a long case with bottles of beer and copious amounts of nachos.

Castle is sitting next to her, close enough that his leg is pressing warmly against her thigh, Esposito perpendicular to her, Ryan next to him, Lanie across, chatting and bickering and egging each other on.

She's quieter today, doesn't exactly attempt to keep up with them, just enjoys the laughter and easy company, feels as if they are all shrouded in a cloak of comfortable happiness.

She reaches for a nacho across the table, grazing his shoulder with her upper arm, and Castle turns toward her with a smile, pushes the green salsa that is her favorite toward her. She dips, then nibbles the chip, and notices his eyes lingering on her lips a little too long to still be considered casual. Her tummy flutters.

Then Ryan gets summoned by Jenny, and Lanie gets up, not without throwing a wink in Kate's direction. Espo is fast on her heels, helping her into her coat, and the two of them trail out of the bar together not a minute later.

It's just the two of them now.

This isn't a date. But it's sure starting to feel like one.

* * *

><p>The little Italian place that Castle knows is only a few blocks away and so they choose to walk. The late May evening is balmy; a breeze ruffles the trees and the air is still moist, saturated from an earlier rain shower, leaving the city bathed in an almost surreal glow of a light grey fog.<p>

Her heels click on the asphalt, and his steps are in tune with hers as they walk to the next corner. When the traffic light switches to 'walk,' Castle guides her across the intersection, his hand lightly against her lower back. The warmth of his palm seeps through her clothes, into her skin and she sways, just slightly, closer to his side.

Her shoe gets caught on a grate; she stumbles but his arm wraps around her waist immediately, strongly, holding her up. Kate wavers for a moment, not sure if it's the loss of balance or his touch. When she looks up his face is close, his body too, so very close; she lifts her eyes to his, is captured by the deep dark blue of his irises, the intensity of his stare.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." _More than okay_. She nods. His fingers dig into her waist, like a reflex; her eyelids flutter as a breath hitches in her chest.

A car horn blares in the distance, startling them. Castle catches himself, smiles at her tenderly. Satisfied that she is steady on her feet he drops his arm from around her waist.

She misses his warmth immediately.

They fall into step once more, their arms grazing slightly as they walk. Kate ghosts her fingers along his hand, hooks her pinkie finger around his. He draws in a breath, swivels his head toward her. She looks over at him from out of the corner of her eyes, _yes I meant to do that Castle_, squeezes his finger reassuringly.

She doesn't let go the rest of the way.

* * *

><p>The little restaurant is packed. Couples, clusters of friends, families with children bouncing up and down on wooden chairs are gathered around the tables decked in red and white checkered tablecloths. The place hums with the words and laughter of multitudinous voices and Italian love songs in the background, like a loud beehive. The air is ripe with the scents of fresh bread, garlic and marinara sauce. It's loud and rich and atmospheric and the food is to die for.<p>

They sit across from each other at a little table by the window, a candle flickering gaily between them. Castle spears the tomato slices from his salad onto his fork and drops them into her bowl. She loves tomatoes. She pushes the last slice of garlic bread toward him.

He buys her a single, long-stemmed red rose from the vendor who winds his way between the tables. With a wink and an exaggerated flourish, he hands it to her. Kate laughs but then he smiles at her so affectionately that her insides flutter, hot and excited, heating her cheeks to a blush.

She scoots a leg closer to his under the table, rests her calf against his. It's warm and reassuring and deliciously exciting.

He swoons over his lasagna and holds out a bite toward her on his fork for her to try. Kate contemplates for a second but then instead of taking the fork, she tilts her head forward and wraps her mouth around the bite as he holds it. The atmosphere, the romance of the evening have enticed her; she feels warm and languid and happy and she wants to experience, wants to feel every moment. With him. Her eyes slide closed as the rich flavors explode on her tongue and she hums a low moan.

His leg twitches against hers and her eyes fly open. His face is closer now, a dark and needy glimmer in his eyes that sends a shot of heat straight to her belly.

"Mmmm you're right," she murmurs, licks a bit of tomato sauce from the corner of her mouth. "It is good."

"…_il sogno di poterti amare…"_

They startle, swivel toward the voice that started singing next to them.

"…_ti scriverei, Una canzone d'amore, per farmi ricordare…"_

A large-bellied man is standing by their table, arms outstretched and singing with abandon. Everybody's attention has turned to the man as he serenades Kate and Castle, gesturing toward them, winking at them while he swoons his words. She doesn't know much Italian but she can still recognize the universal language, the feelings and emotions of undying love.

Heat climbs up in her face again and she turns, looks up at Castle from under her eyelashes. But he just smiles at her, soft and loving, and reaches out across the table, lays his hand on top of hers. His touch is tender but hot, and tingles race up her arm. She laces her fingers through his and squeezes.

"…_se sapessi cosa dire allora ti scriverei, Una canzone d'amore ..._

* * *

><p>His hand rests against her lower back again when he guides her out of the restaurant. It is colder outside by now but the heat of his touch spreads along her limbs, keeping her warm. She feels deliciously limp, heavy from good food and the glass of red wine singing in her blood.<p>

She doesn't want the night to end. The melody of the song is still dancing through her mind and so she hums while they walk.

Castle suddenly reaches for her hand, twirls her around and into his embrace, wrapping his other arm around her waist once more. Joining in, he hums the melody with her, his mouth vibrating close to her ear. While he dances her along the sidewalk.

He spins her out, then back into his arms. A few more steps and then he dips her, low. And Kate laughs, a sound floating up from deep within her throat. So much joy and happiness she hasn't felt in a long time. Maybe ever. With this amazing, fun-loving man by her side who dances with her in the middle of the street.

Castle brings her back up, folds her against him, the curves, angles and planes of their bodies interlocking. "Una canzona d'amore…" he murmurs the lyrics against the shell of her ear, while his steps slow, like languid caresses.

She pulls back a bit, cradles his cheek into her palm and he stills, his feet no longer moving but his grip around her waist tighter. She takes in his face, his beautiful blue eyes that stare at her, dark and passionate. His full lips, flavorful and talented. Her heart is thumping against her ribcage, her skin bathed in tantalizing tingles.

And then his delicious lips are on her, soft at first, tentative, teasing touches against hers, and she wraps her arms around his neck, pulls him closer. Opens her mouth to him and he delves inside, kissing her deeply, with strength and want and passion, and she falls against him, into him. His taste, his love for her, and she meets him, aches for him, is so in love with him.

It tastes like forever.

_End of Scene_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Italian lyrics are from the song "Una Canzone d'Amore". Lyrics used, in order:

_(1) "…A dream to be able to love you…"_

_(2) "…I would write to you, A love song, To make myself to be remembered (by you)…"_

_(3) "If I knew what to say then, I would write to you, A love song…."_

* * *

><p><span>Tumblr:<span> nic6879(at)tumblr(dot)com

Twitter: (at)nic6879


	2. The Doorstep

**The Doorstep**

Kate spends the cab ride leaning against his side, her legs draped over his lap. Outside the windows the city lights are racing by, but inside it is quiet, just the vibrations of the motor and the sounds of their combined breathing. One of Castle's hands rests on her thigh, warm and heavy, his presence both enticing and reassuring. She feels hazy and lulled, trying to grasp the reality that within the span of just a few hours they went from friends and partners to, well, more than friends, and here she is sitting almost on top of him and it doesn't feel awkward, it's just right, so magically easy.

Castle smiles at her, silent and content, just keeps smiling at her with an expression so adoring and amazed and slightly stunned that it makes her stomach flutter, her fingers, her heart. She wants to leap on him, draw him onto her, into her, hold him by the ears and drag his mouth to her lips so he kisses her again.

He kissed her so heatedly, outside on the sidewalk, devouring and aching and strong, seemingly never-ending until they both gasped for air and she clung to him with her fingernails clenched into his chest. And he hasn't kissed her since, and it's been ten minutes, and really that is too long and he needs to just do that again, right now.

She smiles at him from the side, looking up from underneath her eyelashes, bites her lip. His eyes darken, and she runs her fingertips along the heated skin of his neck, teases the tendons and muscles with her nails. His breathing quickens, but his look turns playful, a fiery spark in his eyes. The hand on her thigh starts moving, almost imperceptibly at first, but then she feels his fingertips inching further inside, grazing the seam of her jeans, then higher, just a little, slow and teasing. A trail of fire that's singeing her skin and she clenches her thighs tightly around his hand, gasps, her eyes fluttering.

His mouth is close now, his hot breath whispers against her lips and she clamps her hand around the back of his neck, holding him to her, can almost taste his kiss again, his warm lips, his flavor, a touch of mint and a little bit sweet and a lot manly, enticing, she wants more, wants all of it.

She jolts forward; the car has stopped.

"We here," the driver knocks against the plastic partition of the cab, grinning widely at them.

She giggles, hides her face against Castle's neck for just a moment where she can feel the answering chuckle dancing through his chest. She drops a soft quick kiss against the side of his neck, adds a scrape of her teeth, because his skin is fragrant and inviting and she's right there and she can. He swallows heavily.

With slightly shaky hands he reaches for his wallet, leans forward to pay while she pulls her legs off his lap and sits up straight.

* * *

><p>In the elevator they stand a respectable distance apart, mostly because old Mr. Petrowski from 4C had apparently chosen midnight as the appropriate time to check his mail, and is now loudly complaining about Mrs. Yarnick's yapping Chihuahua in 3F and why can't the NYPD just <em>do<em> something about that?

Kate hides a smile, listens to his issues and politely answers his questions while Castle uses the opportunity to subtly graze his fingers along the back of her knuckles. Her fingers twitch, which he takes as an unspoken invitation to explore further. Slowly he sneaks underneath her sleeve until he encounters bare skin, and then circles his fingers around to the underside of her wrist. She wavers, has to lock her knees.

With his fingertips he circles along her wrist, follows the slim veins, then round and round again over her tender skin. She swallows, her eyelashes flutter and so she nods exaggeratedly at Mr. Petrowski to cover it up, _yes yes I'll look into it_.

Finally they reach her floor; the elevator dings and she scoots past the old man, bids him a good night. Castle comes to her side again; tenderly he rests his palm against her lower back as he walks her to her door. His touch strokes the embers low in her belly, setting her skin aflame, a hot glow to her cheeks.

They reach her doorstep and she digs through her purse for her keys while he crowds against her from behind, his entire body close, so close to hers, not touching but the space is so minimal that she can almost feel him against her back. Her hands are shaky; she tries to breathe, fumbles through her purse until she finally manages to wrap her fingers around the door key, pull them out.

Kate turns around, faces him. With her heels they are about the same height and she doesn't have to look up to catch his eyes. They are dark blue in the dim hallway, shine at her intensely, full of passion and desire but covered by that ever-present layer of ardent admiration and respect for her, and she quivers inside. Nobody has ever looked at her like that.

"Castle," she whispers, runs her fingers up his chest, rests them over his heart, "I had a wonderful ti..."

The rest of the words never make it because his mouth is on hers, capturing her lips. He wraps an arm around her back, the other delves into her hair while he slowly explores, deeply, intensely. He draws her bottom lip into his mouth, sucks lightly on it, nips with his teeth and sparks ignite under her skin. She moan, wraps her arms around his neck, pulls him tighter to her body, her fingers twirling into the short soft hair at his nape.

"Me too," he murmurs into her mouth and she nods, hums in dazed acknowledgement. Then his tongue travels along her lips as if he is memorizing their shape, before he slips inside her mouth and she meets him and it's feverish and powerful and weakens her knees and she is clinging to his body, wishes she could melt inside of him.

And then it's slower, aching and beautiful and he kisses her lips tenderly, once, twice, then again before they pull apart, and she slumps against the frame of her door, boneless and aroused and content and weak.

He bends, picks up the keys that she must have dropped at some point, folds them into her palm.

"Good Night, Kate," he murmurs with a warm joyful smile, his hand still cradling hers.

She smiles at him, can't wipe the silly grin off her face. "Until tomorrow, Castle," she whispers, runs her tongue along her lips where she can still savor his taste.

His eyes widen as he stares at her lips, darken with a flash and he leaps forward, pounces on her, his lips fervent as he takes her mouth once more, deep and fast, pushing her back against the door and their bodies align, front to front. She can't get enough, explores the depths of his mouth, his shape and texture, suckles his lips while she pulls him tightly to her, wraps a leg around his hip. His middle is cradled against her hips and his hands are inside her coat, traveling the waistband of her jeans until he finds purchase against her skin, skimming his fingertips along her lower back and she arches against him, her hips lifting and she groans darkly into his mouth.

His fingers tighten against her back, stilling her movement and slowly, slowly they come to, tumble back toward the earth. Kissing her more slowly, he calms her, soothes the deep yearning inside of her though she wonders how successful it is for him, given how his heart is racing. She drops her leg back to the ground, rests her palm against his heart once more, cradles his cheek with her other hand.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" she murmurs against his mouth, placing a tender kiss on his lips.

He nods, kisses her. "Tomorrow."

One more kiss, and then she quickly turns, opens her door and slips inside. Before she can change her mind.


	3. Morning Kiss

"…_it's like this is our Good Morning Kiss … a way of saying … without actually using words: "Good morning, my heart. How are you doing?" _

_(Nathan Fillion on the symbolism of coffee in Castle and Beckett's relationship)_

* * *

><p><strong>Morning Kiss<strong>

He changes his shirt five times that morning, scrutinizes his look, his hair, finally settles on a midnight blue dress shirt that brings out the color of his eyes, if he does say so himself. He knows she likes that color on him, has noticed more than once how Beckett has thrown an appreciative glance toward his chest when he wears blue.

He puts on a tie, then feels ridiculous because when does he ever wear a tie at the precinct? Off comes the tie, and then he flips through his hair one more time, going for the ruggedly disheveled look this morning, before he feels moderately ready to head over to work. To the 12th. To her.

A coffee cradled in each palm, he feels ridiculously nervous on his way up the elevator. His stomach flutters, his skin tingles, a heightened awareness to every sound and scent that makes him jumpy, hyper on the inside. Nervous and excited, he bounces on the balls of his feet in anticipation.

And he wonders, worries about how it will go once he sees her again in approximately thirty seconds or less. She is still Beckett, and he knows her, so no reason to be nervous, right? Oh but now she's also Kate, soft and beautiful Kate, who feels pliable in his arms, whose mouth is hot and sugary sweet and sensitive. Kate who has let him kiss her on a sidewalk, and then she kissed him again at her door, and again and again.

The latent arousal still flows through his veins with the images and memories of last night that keep replaying in his mind, of her in his arms, of her leg curled around his hip, of the fire and urgency of her lips. His cheeks heat up with a flash.

The elevator doors slide open, and at the same moment, she raises her head from her paperwork, looks straight at him. He is captured, enthralled by her eyes, and he stands as if rooted to the elevator, can't stop staring at her, all gorgeous flowing hair and beautiful skin and long graceful limbs.

A soft smile plays around her lips, warm and intimate, as if they are sharing a secret, and they are, if he thinks about it. He returns her smile, quirks up an eyebrow as he steps off the elevator, and she blushes. Actually blushes. It almost seems out of character for her, he would not have pegged her to be a blushing kind of girl, but it makes her only more adorable.

She's watching him come walk closer, her eyes connected to his, and then she parts her mouth, timidly bites her teeth into the corner of her bottom lip, and he feels like he can't breathe.

"Hey," he pushes the word past his lips as he arrives by her desk, and clumsily holds out the coffee to her. _Good morning my heart, how are you doing?_

She smiles up at him with sparkling eyes, like fire opals in the artificial precinct lights, lips curved up intimately.

"Hey," she murmurs, her voice low, only for his ears while she reaches for her coffee, cradles her hand around his fingers for a moment. The warmth of her skin seeps into him, soothing his frazzled nerves and his insides calm with the realization, the reassurance that it's okay, that they're diving into this together, no safety net, no regrets.

Kate pulls the coffee toward her, then tips it up to her lips and takes a long sip that makes her throat bob enticingly and her lashes flutter. He just stands in front of her, can't stop watching her. He wants her in his arms again, her warm lithe body cradled to his chest-

She puts her cup on the desk, rises gracefully from her chair and nods her head toward the left. His sign for him to follow. So he does.

Castle catches up to her, falls into step by her side, and their arms graze as she leads him toward the door to the stairwell. Holding it open she ushers him through, then glances around quickly to see if anybody noticed, before she pulls it closed behind them.

The moment the heavy metal door clicks into its look she wraps her arms around his neck, pushes him against the cement wall of the stairwell.

"Good morning," she whispers close to his lips, her voice enticing and a little morning-rough, and then she kisses him. Her mouth slips warmly onto his, and it's soft and exploratory, a wondrous loving touch.

"Good morning," he murmurs back between kisses and gentle touches of his tongue against hers, outlining and tasting her lips. He wraps his arms around her waist and holds her close as she leans her body against his.

Her smile is beautiful, so achingly beautiful as it shines on him, and he almost can't believe that she's with him, that she has chosen him, that he is the one making her this happy, making her glow like that.

She runs a fingertip teasingly up his chest, draws small circles against his shirt. "Think we can keep this to ourselves," her other hand is twirling through the hairs at his nape, "for a little while?"

He looks at her questioningly, subconsciously tenses his fingers against her back as a touch of concern dips into his stomach. He had been hoping she was ready.

"I don't want to hide it, Castle," she shakes her head to emphasize her words, rests her hand softly above his thudding heart.

"I just want a little bit of time, just for the two of us, you know, without being watched and scrutinized by everybody." She cants forward once more and kisses him softly.

"More of this magic," she whispers teasingly, runs her tongue along his bottom lip.

He pulls her more tightly against him, and then he slants his lips over hers, kisses her deeply and longingly.

"Okay," he agrees to her request when they break apart and she is panting against him. Anything she wants.

Besides, he thinks excitedly, a little bit of sneaking around with her should be great fun.


	4. Clandestine

**Clandestine**

The arm comes from out of nowhere, a hand snagging hers, tugging, and it's not really from out of nowhere, rather from out of the supply closet and it is _his_ hand, strong and warm against her palm; her stomach bursts into flutters and she is yanked inside, tumbles against his chest, so solid underneath her fingertips. Kate sucks in a stumbling breath and then he's got her against the door, shutting it with her shoulders and the force of their bodies slamming into it.

His arm around her waist, his fingers carding through the strands of her hair and he's kissing her again, his mouth hot and fast on hers, feasting on her lips, his tongue delving deep, drawing from her almost desperately and she digs her fingers into his chest, her other hand at his cheek, his ear, his neck, tucking him closer, closer. It's been so long, too long since they said good morning in the stairwell, _hours_ since she last kissed him; well maybe two hours, but two hours filled with glances and soft smiles and secret little touches and _behaving_, and oh god he needs to do that thing with his tongue again, right now.

She tugs on his ear, frantic, needy and he gives her what she needs, all instinct as he strokes, twirls his tongue around hers. She mewls; her knees buckle and she slumps down the door like a rag doll but he pulls her back up, into his arms. Shifting a leg between her thighs he steadies her and the pressure is so good, so _good_ against her that she can't stop it, helplessly rocks her hips against him. The groan that rumbles up from his chest is laced with dark need, setting her skin on fire and she drops her head back, granting access to his exploring mouth as he kisses, nibbles along her jawline and down the column of her neck.

"Castle." She jerks against him when his teeth graze a muscle strand, sending frissons through her blood, and how are they doing this, how do they burn so hot in virtually no time; how did they survive _not_ doing this for four years?

"You…" She sighs, ruffles her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck as his lips find her collarbone. "…drive me crazy."

He lifts his head, holding her hips steady within the tight grip of his hands, stares at her with fiery passion.

Kate shifts against him, delicately grazes her fingertips along his cheek, under his eyes, over the shape of his mouth, and his skin feels feverish to her touch.

"You always have," she admits softly. It's astounding, she thinks inanely, how that one word so perfectly describes all that they were with, for, to each other. What they are, and always have been.

He smiles, slow and sweet, understanding and admiration both, and then he cradles her against him; tugs her face into the curve of his neck while his fingers run up and down her back in soothing caresses. Calming the delirious firestorm inside her until she tingles with only the low steady glimmer of latent arousal.

She hums into his skin. "We should go back." She points listlessly at the door behind her, her arm limp and heavy. She really, really doesn't want to leave the comfort of his enticingly broad chest against her.

"Yeah," he croaks, clears his throat. "Yes."

Slowly they pull apart; he stares at her while he shifts her off his leg and she tries to find her footing, reaches for the door knob behind her.

"Hold on." He grins, and runs his fingers through the strands of her hair, careful and attentive, untangling the mussed-up curls. Then he swipes his thumb over the corners of her lips.

"Better," he murmurs, and sucks the pad of his thumb into his mouth.

Heat flares in her abdomen once more, fast and vicious in its attack and she looks up, finds his eyebrow quirked up suggestively; he knows exactly what he's doing to her, the power he has over her.

Kate smirks. Two can play that game. She ambles closer once more, runs a fingertip over his chest in slow, slow circles. She looks at him from under her eyelashes, lets her eyes drift to his lips, just a quick flick, then back to his eyes as she speaks low, lets her words float from her mouth alluringly.

"You coming, Castle?"

* * *

><p>Something is different. He can't put his finger on it yet but something is… different. It seems to flicker in the air.<p>

"Yo, Ryan," he calls his partner. The other man looks up from the paperwork on his desk, and Esposito beckons him closer.

"What's up with them?" He asks when his partner leans next to him against the desk, nodding his head toward the break room.

Ryan surreptitiously glances through the break room windows, observes Beckett and Castle in there for a few moments. "Seems normal to me." He shrugs his shoulders.

"Hmm." Esposito watches them again. Castle is making coffee, steaming milk while Beckett is leaning against the counter, smiling at him, talking. Normal. They've always been flirting with each other, and he's seen how brightly Beckett has been smiling at him for a long time, and Castle has always been putty when it comes to her anyway. So yeah, normal, except… not quite.

"Why?" Ryan's question pulls him out of his reverie.

"Something is different," he fills in his partner, strokes his chin reflectively. They both stare through the blinds once more.

"And they keep disappearing today."

Then Beckett looks up, finds them watching through the blinds, narrows her eyes and they scurry apart like two little boys who were caught with their hands in the cookie jar. He waves a file at Ryan, pretends he was discussing a case.

But Esposito is undeterred. Something is up, he can feel it. And he will get to the bottom of it.

* * *

><p>She leans against the table, stares at the murder board but nothing. Nothing pops, no connections, it doesn't make any sense.<p>

Castle sidles close, sits next to her on the edge of the table and their legs touch from hip to knee. Warmth crawls along her skin, tingles through her bloodstream and she turns, flicks her eyes up at him. He smiles that sweet charming smile, infused with such tenderness that her cheeks flare with heat.

"Anything new?"

"No." She shakes her head, trains her eyes forward to take in the available information.

Castle's hand brushes against her lower back, his fingers trailing just above the waistband of her pants and she curves her spine into his touch, sucks in air.

"Nothing. No known address still." Her voice sounds wobbly even to her own ears and she tries to focus, surreptitiously glances around, but there is nobody close by to see them. "Financials were clean..."

His fingers sneak underneath the edge of her button-up shirt and then they graze along her skin, setting off sizzling sparks underneath her skin and she gasps on her next words. "No co- connection between the victim and the robbery."

He scratches lightly against her spine with his fingernail, then along the edge of her waistband and she shivers, shifts into his touch, needing more, please more and her insides flood with heavy, viscous need. God if he doesn't stop this she will be the one that's going to come.

"Well," he says, trailing his fingers over to her waist, "it's still early."

* * *

><p>Kate kisses him again by the copier. Pulls him close by the collar of his shirt, into the alcove that houses the machine, pushes him against the wall this time and kisses him, hot and quick, breathing fire against his lips with her fingernails leaving thin red half moon imprints at the sides of his neck. He has to close the top button later to hide them.<p>

Castle runs his fingers along the back of her hand when they all sit in the conference room, the table filled with photos and scattered information, and he knows nobody is able to see when he slowly draws along her thin bones, trails the shape of her veins, then up her fingers and back. She shifts restlessly in her seat, and when everybody is leaving, he tugs a finger into her belt loop, pulls her toward him, lays a soft, lingering kiss onto her lips and she sighs against him.

They find excuses to touch, linger, tease all day, and the air is charged, frissons with humming electricity.

* * *

><p>Castle finds her in the file room.<p>

"Took you long enough," she murmurs teasingly as she wraps her arms around him from behind, leans her forehead against his spine.

He lays his hands on top of hers where they rest against his chest, feels her unwind and relax against him. She breathes onto the skin of his neck in a steady pattern, warm bursts that make his heart flutter in bliss.

Finally she circles around his body, her hands holding on to his waist until her chest is aligned with his. She tilts forward and kisses him.

It's soft this time, slow and sweet and languid as she thoroughly explores his mouth, investigates with her tongue, her lips, while her fingers tenderly draw nonsensical patterns onto the skin of his cheeks and he tingles all over, falls under her spell, like he always has.

"I've missed you," he mumbles against her; it's only been a couple of hours but he did, he missed her, missed this. She kisses the words off his lips, tugs them between hers, sucks on the flesh and his knees go wobbly. Smiling sweetly against his lips, she deepens her kiss once more, lazily plays with his mouth.

* * *

><p>They leave like they do so many days. She turns off her computer, locks up papers and information in her desk. He rises, holds open her coat for her and she slips her arms into it, pulls out her hair from underneath the collar.<p>

Esposito grins, wonders for a moment whether they are aware how much they are already acting like a married couple. Then his eyes narrow, observing them again as they walk toward the elevator together. The same distance between them as they walk, just like every day, no closer, no touching, just casual conversation. Castle talking animatedly with his hands, Beckett smiling at him from the side and Esposito can almost see the affectionate eye roll she throws toward her partner.

Still, he's not convinced. Something is going on.

Oh well. Esposito grabs his own coat, throws it over his shoulder as he walks through the bullpen. Tomorrow is another day. He'll find out eventually.

* * *

><p><em>TBC<em>


End file.
